A Little Bit Of Peace
by lilabut
Summary: What happened between Lexie and Jackson after the end of episode "Slow Night, So Long"?


This is my first Grey's Anatomy fic. I've been pretty obsessed with these two for the last two episodes and when I watched the last, I just felt like there needed to be somethign else happening between Jackson and Lexie. So, this is my attempt.

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**A LITTLE BIT OF PEACE**

_You never know how crazy a person is until they tell you their nightmares._

E m i l y D e s m o n d

When Lexie's eyes shot open, she could not tell what time it was. She felt as if it was the middle of the night, that time when you look at the clock and immediately feel sleep pulling you back into peace and rest.

But it had to be around noon in her twisted world, because she could see fine, filigree and bright lines of light peeking from behind her blinds, casting a striped pattern on the top of her blanket.

It took Lexie a few seconds to comprehend why she was suddenly sitting in her bed, heart beating a bit too fast, mind swirling. But then she heard it again and it tore her racing heart apart just that little bit that she always seemed to feel these days. Every time she looked into his eyes.

Today, she had thought she could help him. Help him to set down this mask he had been wearing ever since _that_ day. For too long had she pretended that he did not wake her every single night, that she did not hear him screaming in agony. That she simply did not care.

When, in fact, she was caring way too much.

She recalled his words from earlier today as she crawled from beneath her blanket, setting her bare feet onto the cool floor. Remembering the rejection that was supposed to hide the pain and longing for peace in his eyes. The harshness that served as an alibi for his weakness. At least, she was sure that _he_ considered it a weakness. His nightmares, his fears.

The bright sunlight that greeted Lexie in the empty hallway burned her dry eyes. She knew that later, he had in fact been opening up just a bit. Just as much as her heart was hurting. He had not just talked about their patient. The patient had been him. The guilt had been his. The pain they would share for the rest of their lives.

Slowly, she opened the door to his room, quickly stepping inside the welcoming darkness again. When the door fell closed behind her, Lexie could still vaguely see the outlines of his restless frame in his bed, his screams stabbing her.

She stepped towards his bed, kneeling down, breathing in deeply to calm her own nerves. Sleep was still heavily present in her eyes and mind, every muscle in her body aching, longing for a soft pillow.

But then she focused back on Jackson, reaching out her hand, catching his in hers just as his arm was flinging through the air. She could barely hold it, his attempt to pull it out of her grip strong. But she could feel his resistance falter as she slowly started drawing circles on his palm with her thumb.

It was the first time she really touched him. She had cooled his hand last night, yes. They had bumped into each other many times. But now, that she _actually_ touched him, she was amazed by the softness of his skin. By the effect that her feather light touch had on him.

She hummed softly, leaning her head close to his so his subconsciousness can hear her, her hand never stopping to draw patterns on his skin. Eventually, he stopped moving, his breathing becoming more and more even.

"It's okay," she whispered, her mouth so close to his face that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. The warmth radiating from him and his bed were inviting, and Lexie had to fight hard to keep her eyes open.

She could see his lashes flutter slightly, as if one of her breaths had moved them, and then his eyes slowly, slowly open. He stared right at her, confused, just like Lexie had been.

"It's okay, Jackson. It's just me," she whispered, smiling down at him, trying her hardest to keep him in this state of temporary peace.

"Lexie?" he asked so quietly that Lexie almost did not understand it, his voice thick and raspy from sleep.

She nodded, increasing the pressure of her thumb against his palm.

"You don't have to talk about it. I understand. But you do need to sleep. And so do I. And I can't sleep when you keep having those nightmares," Lexie whispered softly, slowly, considering every word like a cut with the scalpel before she allowed it past her lips.

He just kept staring at her, and Lexie started losing her assurance. Maybe she should have just left him alone like he had wanted. He had made it more than clear that he did not want to share his loads with her. So, why did she have to drag her tired feet out of bed and put him into another situation that he should not have to endure?

"Lexie," he whispered again, his voice still as raspy as it had been a few minutes ago. Lexie suddenly felt the hand she was holding turn around, fingers curling around her own, slight pressure and warmth tingling on her own skin.

"Do _you_ have nightmares?" he asked and the question was unexpected, confusing Lexie. She shook her head slowly, seeing the disappointment in his eyes, underlined with a hint of envy that he cannot hide – not even in the dark.

"I couldn't sleep at all. And… I don't dream anymore. No good things, either. I guess that's the prize for not having to live through everything in my dreams every night."

He exhaled and when his warm breath tickled Lexie's skin, she became aware of how close they really were, how deep she could look into his yes, how his fingers were softly brushing against hers.

Jackson must have noticed, too, because his eyes suddenly flickered down to her lips, only a split second but long enough for Lexie to throw away all her heartbreak and her tears and despair and doubts and rules and just close the barely existing distance between them. There had never been much of a distance, that she realized when her lips gently brushed against his, not really kissing, but merely feeling his soft skin, awaiting a reaction.

He did not kiss her back, she did not wait for it. She just felt his skin and waited for some other kind of reaction.

Finally, when the initial shock had ebbed into the semi-darkness around them, Jackson lifted his free arm and brushed his hand up her spine, causing her to shiver against him. Partially, he then pulled her, partially, she climbed into his bed, Jackson's hand curling into her soft hair, their lips still just barely brushing against each others.

Lexie curled into his side, their hands still intertwined. When she pulled her head away from his face just an inch, she could still see the fear in his eyes, his chest, which was pressed against her side, betrayed his racing heart and she had long felt the sweat covering his skin.

There was nothing she has to say, nothing that would mean something right now. Instead, she buried her face in his neck, wrapping her free arm around him. If there was nothing she had to say and if there was nothing that he wanted to talk about, then the least she could do was try and hold him together.

If just for this one day.


End file.
